


The Eternal Flame

by Longpig, Measured_Words



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Feyiv, Galra Empire, Galra History, Gen, History, Intrigue, Politics, Totally Not Treason, galra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longpig/pseuds/Longpig, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Throk and Claw Guy go to Feiv to consult on some points of Galra History in consideration of Zarkon's current inability to rule.





	The Eternal Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Fic by Measured_Words, Art by Longpig (lotors-saltwife on tumblr). Originally created for the Scorpius Zine.

"Something isn't right." Throk hissed the words, as though he was afraid of being overheard.

There had been whispers since the battle – since the Voltron Lions had flown off from the wreckage of Central Command and Zarkon's battle armor. Claug and Throk had both been among the commanders who converged on the emperor's position to provide assistance but, as soon as they'd brought him onboard, they'd been rebuffed by Haggar and the druids. She'd berated them then for letting the lions escape, as though they hadn't tried. As though she hadn't lost her own mysterious battle against Voltron and its allies. Barely standing, she'd told them what disappointments they would be to their emperor once he awoke – something that would only happen under her care, of course.

But Zarkon hadn't appeared to reassume his throne, to berate his commanders, or praise them, or anything else. 

Throk's paranoia was contagious, and Claug glanced around for potential listening devices – as though the witch would need such things to spy on them. "Do you think…" He didn't want to say it. "…He's coming back?"

Throk sneered, baring needle-like fangs. "The witch won't let anyone in to see him that isn't under her direct control. If he was recovering, he would display his strength."

"If he was able, yes." Claug caught Throk's eye, and knew by his expression that he'd read his meaning. One could view Haggar's actions as protective of the emperor in a time of vulnerability, if she doubted the loyalty of his commanders. One could as easily view them as protective of her own power and control.

"Enough of this." Throk hissed, clenching his fist. "Something is clearly amiss. We need to consider our options. For the good of the empire."

"Bold words – but what do you intend to do? " He crossed his arms. "Don't underestimate the witch."

"She uses Zarkon's name to exert her own power, and keeps the empire weak." Throk met his eyes, his expression more careful. "However, without him…"

"There is only one way the emperor can be replaced." Once the emperor was dead, they would call the Kral Zera, and those who thought themselves worthy would fight to relight the flame and claim the empty throne. But the flame would not be extinguished while the emperor lived, and Claug could not imagine that Throk would be so bold to suggest that they make their suspicion a certainty of their own initiative. The other commanders would never condone such cowardly action, or those who undertook it.

"Is that so? Zarkon has ruled for so long… perhaps there is some forgotten precedent."

"Ha! I don't know about you, Throk, but I can recite the names and fates of all our glorious emperors – all of whom are known to have died in battle."

"Of course I know the official histories, Claug, but perhaps I am a more astute student than yourself. What of 'Aruk, defeated at the battle of Korkaris'? Or Thivok, who 'fell to the enemies of the Empire and was replaced by Gormuz?"

Claug frowned as Throk quoted lines all Galra knew by rote. Perhaps there was more ambiguity in them than he had recognized. "The Archivist. He would know."

Throk smiled thinly. "Then since our presence here is not desired… we shall go to Feyiv and consult him."

Despite his glib words, Throk was careful to disguise the reason for their departure as well as their destination – no one would mistake a visit to Feyiv for anything innocent or innocuous. The pair met outside of the system, leaving their lieutenants in command of their fleets as they set course for the sacred planet together. The scans revealed no unexpected activity planet-side – the Archivist and his staff, the usual supply craft, and nothing more. If any other generals had similar ideas, they had either come and gone, or were yet to arrive.

Claug doubted there would be others. 

All the generals were loyal to the empire, but it was the loyalty of the weak before the strong, a fanaticism driven in part by fear of the emperor. With Zarkon weakening, they would turn on each other with personal power their goal, and the empire their tool rather than their master. Throk was no less ambitious, but he was a traditionalist. His scheming would have a respectable foundation. He was strong, and highly respected in their sector – Zarkon's favourite now that Sendak and Prorok were gone. He doubted the others would concern themselves with the trivialities of history or precedent if they thought the empire was best managed in their hands. 

He also knew that no matter what, any change in power would come down to a fight. They were Galra. At best what they learned would give them an edge in preparation, or perhaps recruitment. They might give the empire a chance to pull itself back together before they lost more planets to rebellion.

The flame dominated their view as they followed a robed acolyte towards the Archivist's temple. Other than their guide they saw no one, and she gestured for them to move past her into the temple itself with no intent to follow after. In other circumstances, Claug would have suspected a trap - by Throk's bared teeth, it was clear the other commander was thinking the same. But this was Feyiv. Anyone orchestrating so dishonourable an ambush would never be seen as worthy to lead the empire. They pressed on through the dim central corridor, ignoring the labyrinthian branching of narrower passages to either side, and were rewarded finally with a brighter glow of purple around an open doorframe. A figure appeared to fill it – a Galra almost as gangly as Throk, wearing a respirator and with several quintessence canisters attached to his shoulders.

"Commanders Throk and Claug."

"You must be the Archivist," Throk said, stepping forward. 

"Yes – I occupy the sacred post." He considered them for a moment. "You are not who I would expect if Emperor Zarkon had succumbed to his wounds. The time has not come for the Kral Zera, so tell me – what is your business on Feyiv?"

Claug glanced at Throk, sharing his scowl. Who would be the one to inform the Archivist? Haggar? The Druids? 

"We are all anxious to have the emperor resume his leadership of the empire. CPerhaps you are better informed, but at Central command only Haggar and the Druids have access to him and know his true condition. Haggar claims to speak for him and will allow no one to verify her claims. Meanwhile, more and more planets are rebelling against our control, some slipping through the grasp of the empire. You can imagine the effect this has – we are not the only commanders to express concern."

"I am aware of the situation, Commander, but that does not explain why you have come."

Throk's scowl deepened briefly, flashing his fangs before he smoothed his countenance. "We were hoping to learn whether they may be some guidance from history for these challenging times."

"Guidance…. Yes. Come with me."

The Archivist swept past them through the door, leading them on a twisted path through the building that Claug realized was leading slowly upwards. His suspicion was confirmed when they finally exited a final long and sloping hallway through a trap door and emerged on the platform where the Kral Zera itself burned.

"What do you see, commanders?"

He wasn't sure what he had expected – for the flame to burn hotter, or brighter. To feel an echo here of the power of Zarkon. It was impressive, yes, but impersonal, as though its grandeur was its own, its symbolism inherent. This flame was the empire, no matter who lit it. 

Or perhaps these were just the thoughts of someone who, in his heart, knew himself for a traitor to his emperor.

[](https://imgur.com/gwco8VI)

Claug turned away from the flame, considering his answer, but the Archivist was not watching him. His eyes were on Throk, who had drifted away from the Kral Zera to the stairs, looking out across the empty plaza below towards the plains of Feyiv beyond.

"The battle for Feyiv was difficult – they were the first planet to offer real resistance." Throk spoke thoughtfully, his back still turned the others. "Once that resistance was crushed, it was made a monument – a promise to ourselves that the Galra would endure, and a symbol to all our enemies that in the end, we would defeat them all. I see the Galra in our rightful place, standing tall and proud and glorious, and those who've stood against us turned to dust and forgotten." 

"And you, Commander?" The Archivist turned to Claug.

He looked at the flame, and then out into the empty plains. Yes, the Galra would endure, and this place would stand testament to that. But the Kral Zera burned only for the emperor. "I see a battlefield.”

"The strength of the emperor must be unmatched – and the Kral Zera must burn! To light the flame is to show that strength, and claim the title."

Throk had turned back now, watching the Archivist wave his arms to accentuate his proclamations, his own fists curling inwards. "Tradition states that the flame can only be extinguished on the emperor's death. Is this not so?"

"Tradition, yes! But – there have been exceptions."

Claug crossed his arms. Now they'd come to it. "What exceptions?"

"During the conquest of Bjen, Emperor Hakaz was wounded by his enemies with a poisoned blade. The wound was not mortal, but it sapped his strength and could not be healed. This was before the Galra under Zarkon had mastered the use of quintessence. Hakaz came to Feyiv himself to extinguish the flame – and take his own life. Some call him a coward, but he knew he was no longer fit to rule."

Throk shot him a glance that's meaning was clear: if Zarkon were truly well enough to make his own decisions, they would not be here. 

"What others, then?" Claug demanded, snapping his claws together impatiently. "What of Thivok?" Of the examples Throk had give before, that case had seemed the most ambiguous. Aruk, the texts claimed, had indeed died of wounds incurred at Korkaris only days after the battle.

"Yes, Thivok. Our twenty-fourth, and weakest emperor – though it would have been difficult for any to compare with his predecessor, Vrieg the Great! The death of Vrieg caused chaos and upheaval, and earlier Archivists suggested that Thivok used this to his advantage, forcing the Kral Zera at a time where stronger commanders were occupied elsewhere in protecting the empire. This cost him loyalty and respect, and a faction of the high command conspired against him after he lost control of the Gyrrus System. Kariman, the head of this faction, traveled to Feyiv, and extinguished the flame herself. She issued a public challenge to Thivok and any others who dared to come and face her in a new Kral Zera.

Thivok perished at her hands, unable to reach even the first platform of the steps. Only once he was killed did other commanders join the combat. Several of them, mostly those who had remained loyal to Thivok and the empire, worked together to ensure that she would never claim the title of empress. Gormuz proved the strongest of the challengers, and restored Gyrrus and added many other systems to the empire after he lit the flame. He personally executed the others of Kariman's faction, and it was by his decree that they were known to history as enemies of the empire."

There was silence, other than the Archivist's respirators, for several long ticks. 

"And that's all?"

The Archivist nodded to Claug. "Those are the only exceptions. It was eight hundred years between Kariman's coup and the ascension of Zarkon. If lives were shorter, perhaps memories were longer, and in that span of time the empire only grew larger and more powerful than ever."

"Vrepit sa," Throk said, turning his gaze back outward to the empty plains of Feyiv.

"Vrepit sa," Claug echoed, trying to dismiss a rising feeling of foreboding.

The feeling persisted as they returned to their shuttle. Throk had been quiet, and Claug knew he was thinking on the history they had learned. Rather than reflecting on the warning it held, however, he expected that his fellow commander was looking for ways to make it fit his own ambitions.

"I don't think that was what you were looking for," he said once they were under way. "Who would risk being branded a traitor to the empire?"

"Bah!" Throk sneered. "Kariman lacked the strength and support to carry through her challenge. From all the Archivist said, she issued her challenge and faced Thivok alone. Gormuz sought legitimacy for his claim – the Archivist as much as admitted that Gormuz came from her faction.

If we were to extinguish the flame, Zarkon would be in no condition to answer the challenge. You know this as well as I do. The strongest of the commanders would prevail and light the Kral Zera."

"For any commander to accept that challenge would be a great risk."

"The lie of Zarkon's continued control risks the integrity of the empire for every quintant that the charade persists! The witch allows his legacy to erode along with the glory of the empire, all for the sake of her own power! This will expose her deception and protect the empire so that the Galra will maintain our rightful position in the galaxy."

"And what of Voltron?"

"The power of Voltron broke itself against Zarkon," Throk declared confidently. "No one has seen the Black Lion in action since the battle, and without it they cannot form Voltron. With the empire re-united under strong leadership, the remaining rebels, Lions and all, will quickly fall."

Claug wanted to believe, but his instincts screamed against the course that Throk was plotting. "I won't betray the empire – or the emperor – for a fantasy, Throk. But if others will stand behind this… plan…"

"They will. I will learn from the mistakes of the past, and act only when victory is assured. And then-" he looked to Claug, who nodded.

"Then – Vrepit sa."


End file.
